Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kuwait and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Quantec to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Visage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxy Music,
JFA,
Pantytec,
FM Einheit,
The Mojo Men,
Lungfish,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Grass Roots,
The Doors,
Arthur Verocai,
Carl Craig,
Khruangbin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Görl,
Lucky Dragons,
Agent Orange,
Wings,
Gong,
10cc,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
Q65,
U.S. Maple,
Trumans Water,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultra Naté,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
PIL,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Sonics,
Slick Rick,
E-Dancer,
Avey Tare,
Girls At Our Best!,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gap Band,
Brass Construction,
The Index,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
The Victims,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
Albert Ayler,
The Divine Comedy,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
Deakin,
Sun Ra,
Peter and Kerry,
The Moleskins,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.